


I Came to Say Goodnight

by sumibear



Category: Attack on Titan, Shingeki no Kyojin
Genre: F/M, Jean kirschtein - Freeform, Marcie Bodt - Freeform, Marco Bodt - Freeform, aot - Freeform, attack on titan - Freeform, jeanmarco, shingeki no kyojin - Freeform, snk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumibear/pseuds/sumibear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcie Bodt and her childhood friend Jean Kirschtein enroll in the military to pursue their dreams of joining the Military Police.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is basically an AU where Marco is genderbent to Marcie Bodt and she and Jean were born and grew up in the same district. Thanks for reading!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTW i've basically lost motivation to write this fic and it's really crappy and unfinished. maybe i'll pick it back up one day

A knock. Something the two never thought would be so significant in their lives. A creak of an opening door on it's hinges, as if it was groaning that it had to open again. A smile. They never knew how much they'd miss seeing each other's. A hug. Such a simple gesture, yet probably one of the most important ones in the duo's relationship. Two words. A minute phrase, said by both. And then, that was it. Every now and then one would linger for a moment or two, both exchanging a smile. But other than that, nothing more. Though it seems like little to you, it meant almost everything to them. The fact of knowing that someone cared enough to say goodnight helped them sleep easier. It helped them drift off into dream land where they'd be a titan slaying hero that every girl fell in love with, or simply just back home, everything back to the way it was before all of this madness occurred. But, they both knew that the life they lived before the titans attacked would never be obtainable again. 

"Jean, would you just hold still?" The dark haired girl protested, trying to help her friend into his 3D Maneuver Gear. Once a click was heard, both let out a sigh of relief. It was their first day of training with the gear, and they were having difficulties just putting it on.  
"Hey, Marcie, hand me my blades." Jean ordered softly, shifting around in the harness. Marcie complied, handing the male his blades and helping him load them into the empty slots in the metal boxes hanging off his hips. The blond chuckled. "Damn, these things are heavy." He complained. His acquaintance shrugged, twisting her hips, her feet staying planted where they were.  
"They're not that bad." She looked down at her chest where one of the straps was located.  
"It's these darn harnesses that are going to be frustrating." Jean nodded in agreement with the girl's statement. They sure as hell were frustrating. Marcie had to step in the help Jean get into his, and it was still difficult. A horn went off, signifying that it was time for the trainees to get their first lesson in 3D Maneuver Gear 101.  
"You ready?" Jean asked, looking to Marcie, the girl nodded, a determined smile adorned.  
"Let's go."

Jean flopped down on his bed, utterly exhausted. He had managed to get out of his maze of a harness by himself, but that didn't go as smoothly as he had hoped. The harness had presented Jean with more than one awkward position, yet he somehow managed to wriggle out of each. That process took a toll on him, of course, but he was already drained from the long day of training. He fell on his face more than once. Sure, he did great a couple days ago when they hoisted you up with one of those contraptions. But you were staying still in one of those. Keeping balance while flying around is difficult. At least, for Jean it was.  
Most of the boys had started to retire to the comfort of their beds, settling in for the night. But once Jean had gotten himself comfortable, there was a knock. Armin Arlert, a small, blond boy, got up from his bed and opened the door.  
"Is Jean here?" A timid, yet familiar voice asked. Everyone, curious to see who it was, had averted their attention to the door. Jean sat up, turning around in his bunk to see who was asking for him. His amber eyes widened slightly. 'What the hell is she doing here?' He thought, sliding down the ladder from his bunk and walking to the door, Armin retreating back to his bed. Jean stepped outside, closing the door behind him.  
The air was cool. Not like a winter evening cool, but more of a spring morning cool. The stars twinkled above head in the dark sky, the crescent moon outshining them all. A light breeze had made itself present, gently blowing at the pair's clothes as if it were trying to steal them. The boy sighed, an irritated scowl spread across his face.  
"What is it, Marcie?" He asked, his arms crossed. Marcie, who was also wiped out from the rigorous training, looking to Jean with pleading eyes. She held her arms out, almost childishly, and waited for them to be filled. Jean's frown faded into a more neutral look. He sighed, taking the girl into his arms. Marcie smiled as she felt Jean's arms wrap around her back, burring her face in his shoulder.  
"Goodnight, Marcie." Jean said warmly, a smile growing on his face.  
"Goodnight, Jean."


	2. The Military Police

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of a short chapter, sorry about that. I promise to write longer chapters once the story progresses. Thank you for reading!

"Hurry up, Marcie!" Jean called for his friend, looking behind him to make sure she was still there. The small girl trailed behind him, trying her best to keep pace with the energetic boy.  
"We're gonna miss 'em if you don't run faster!" Jean started to run again, leaving Marcie behind. He turned the corner, a crowd of people littering the outsides of the main street. He waited for Marcie to catch up before grabbing her wrist and forcing his way to the front of the crowd so they could see.  
"Here they come!" A voice announced from down the street, the murmurs of the crowd growing to a loud cheer. Jean's eyes lit up as he saw the soldiers march down the street, waving to the civilians.  
"The Military Police are so cool!" Jean exclaimed, admiring everything about the soldiers passing by.  
"When I get older, I'm gonna be just like them!" The boy declared, looking to his friend with a determined look. The girl smiled to him, nodding.  
"I am too! We're going to be in the Military Police together!" Marcie responded in a more sincere tone than Jean's. Jean looked back to the soldiers, one of them making eye contact with him and smiling. The boy's smile grew even wider at this, his eyes practically sparkling by now he was so excited. He couldn't wait to be one of them.

The two waited until all of the soldiers had passed, out of sight completely. The sun had begun to set, the once blue sky turning a pale yellow.  
"I should probably get back home, my mom is going to start worrying about me if I don't." Marcie stated, Jean nodding.  
"I'll walk you home." He offered, beginning to walk along side his friend. The two usually did this. They would play together all day, running around the market place, exploring new alley ways, or soaking their feet in the river. Sometimes Jean would get in a fight during one of their adventures, and Marcie would always have to pull Jean away to get him to stop. She wasn't that good at fighting, or fending for herself, so Jean would always step in, only causing more trouble than needed. Then, once the day was done, Jean would always walk Marcie back to her house, saying hi to her parents and telling them about what amazing thing they encountered this time. Marcie's mother always loved to hear about what the two did during the day, but her father was a different case. He always seemed to only care what Jean did, but he still listened to Marcie's side, if not reluctantly. Once the whole story was told, Jean would say his goodbyes and head home, repeating the whole endeavor to his parents when he got home before going to bed. Marcie would always tell her parents the revised version of what happened before going to bed. And her mother always made sure to tell Marcie goodnight, every single day.  
You see, Marcie lived with a sort of fear. The fear that if no one took the time out of their day to say a few, simple words to her, she wasn't worth anyone's time. It started off when she was young. If her mother forgot to tell her goodnight, she'd have terrible nightmares. And everyone knows what terrible nightmares do to a child. So, her mother never really stopped saying goodnight to her, even when Marcie got older. It was around age twelve that the fear of not being worth anyone's time started to form. It began to form because of her father. She would always notice Jean playing and laughing with his dad, same with every other kid she saw. But she didn't do any of that with her dad. He was always so closed off and cold whenever Marcie tried to approach him, and when he spoke it was always blunt and neutral, like he had no interest in starting a conversation with his own daughter. That's where it all started, and it only evolved from there.  
Jean found out about this when he and Marcie had a sleepover one night. They were at his house, making a fort out of blankets and chairs. It was their secret base and no adults were allowed in! Absolutely none! Except for when Jean's mom brought them food. But that was a one time thing. When the sun sulked down under the horizon and the moon stretched to the sky, Jean challenged Marcie to a contest.  
"Let's see who can stay up longer! I bet it's me!" He proclaimed, Marcie accepting the challenge. The two stayed up past Jean's parents, and when the coast was clear of any parental figures, the two sneaked into the kitchen cupboards and guzzled down spoons full of sugar to stay awake. But that only gave them a sudden burst of energy before they crashed, all energy suddenly gone. They were laid in the secret base they made together, yawning back and forth and rubbing their eyes to prevent sleep. Jean, being the competitive person he is, was determined to win. But he was surprised at how unwilling Marcie was to lose. She just laid on her back, staring up at the blanket ceiling. He had figured that she would've fallen asleep by now, but for some reason it seemed like she couldn't.  
"Jeez, Marcie." Jean began, turning to lay on his side and look at his friend.  
"Do you need your mommy to tuck you in or something?" He teased, a smirk growing on his face. He didn't think that Marcie would start crying over a little teasing, but she did. The boy instantly panicked, jolting up, his head hair grazing the soft blanket hung above their heads. She had never cried over Jean's teasing before! Shit, what if she actually DID need for her mom to tuck her in?  
"H-Hey, I was only joking." The blond said softly, reaching for one of the hand's hiding Marcie's teary face. The girl shook her head, taking her hands away from her face and crossing her arms across her chest.  
"It's not that." She sniffled, trying to fight back her tears. Jean let out a sigh of relief, but his concern remained.  
"Then why are you crying?" He asked. And that's where it all poured out. Marcie explained the bad dreams that she would get as a child, and the way her father brushed her off like she was a fly, and the feeling should would get in the bottom of her stomach when she saw other kids having fun with their dads, and the fear or not being worth anyone's time. Everything. By the end of it, Jean's concerned expression had turned into one of disgust. He couldn't believe that Marcie's father would ever do that to her.  
"Well, Marcie, if it makes you feel any better, you're worth my time." The girl's eyes widened. She sat up straight, looking to Jean.  
"Really?" She asked after a moment. The boy nodded, a comforting smile replacing his former disgusted scowl. Marcie leaned forward, hugging Jean tightly. She was still crying, but it had changed from tears of pain to tears of joy. You couldn't imagine how happy she was to hear that.  
"Goodnight, Marcie." Jean said softly, rubbing the girl's back gently.  
"Goodnight, Jean."


	3. The Wrong Kind of Raid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically like a filler chapter and its hella stupid but im still posting it for god knows why so yeah. have fun i guess. and thanks for reading, god bless your soul for reading this chapter.

"What was that all about, Kirschtein?" One of the boys teased as the blond reentered the cabin after wishing his friend goodnight.   
"Are you and Marcie a thing?" Another taunted, raising a small chuckle from the others. Jean climbed up into his bed, trying his best to ignore the others. He knew that if he denied he and Marcie being together, none of them would believe him, even though it was the truth. He hated when people were ignorant and did that. The others waited a moment, but shrugged it off once they realized that Jean wasn't going to talk.   
"Lights out!" A strained, yet powerful voice ordered from outside the cabin. The lanterns were turned off, the room gradually becoming darker and darker as the oil that was fed to the flame was cut off. Jean pulled up his covers, curling up for the night. 

Once day broke and the barracks were filled with sunlight, most of the girls were already awake, and pissed off. Someone made off with all their underwear during the night. Annie, a short blonde girl with bright blue eyes and a sort of flat face, had the same, bored expression adorned as usual. But you could see it in her eyes that she was just as mad as everyone else, she was just better at hiding it.   
"Don't worry, Christa. Once I find who took your underwear, I'll beat the shit out of them!" Ymir, a tan, freckled girl vowed.   
"I'll help." Annie added subtly.   
"Guys, we're going to be late for breakfast!" Sasha, a brunette with a spontaneous personality, stated. It was obvious that she was panicking, the girl liked her food. She had earned the title "Potato Girl" on her first day of training, even though she only ate one potato. People were just unwilling to let go of it.   
"Well, we can't go out not wearing any underwear. That'd be uncomfortable." Christa, a petite blonde, piped up.   
"Why don't we just wear skirts?" Minna, an equally small, black haired girl suggested. A collective groan was heard from everyone in the room. They sure as hell weren't going to do that. Sure, they could wear the underwear they slept in, but that's pretty gross.   
"I'll go." Macie finally said, changing out of her pajama bottoms and into a skirt. She turned around, her back facing the room, stripping off her shirt.  
"We can't just wait here like sitting ducks." She stated, pulling on a blouse. She turned back around, her eyes widening. Everyone was saluting her, staring at her with sorrowful eyes. They all knew that someone had to do it, they just wished that it wasn't Marcie. They all liked her. She saluted her companions back.  
"I'll return, don't worry. And when I do, I'll have some answers." She reassured.   
"You're a brave soul, Marcie." Ymir said softly. Marcie nodded, turning to the door and opening it. A gust of wind blew in, blowing at the girl's skirt. She grasped it firmly, not allowing it to move, before stepping outside and shutting the door behind her. It was a windy day. Great. Marcie took a deep breath, walking down the steps and beginning her trudge to the boy's barracks. She knew that if she told Shardis he would rip the culprit to shreds, and she didn't want that. Maybe Annie and Ymir did, but she didn't. So she decided to investigate by herself. It appeared as if most of the boys had already left their barracks to go to the mess-hall, so she figured that poking around their cabins would be rather easy. 

"Connie, why aren't we at the mess-hall?" Jean asked, his stomach making a gargling noise to match his current emotion. His shorter friend had pulled him aside before he could make his way over to the dinning hall, but didn't give him a reason why he was doing so.   
"Because I trust you enough to not tell anyone about this." Connie replied, a smirk adorned. He turned around, lifting up his mattress before turning back to the blonde, tossing a bright pink object to him. Jean held his hand out to catch whatever was flying through the air. It landed in his hands, the texture soft and silky. It took Jean a moment before he realized what he was holding. His jaw dropped.  
"Not to shabby, eh?" Connie asked, satisfied by his friend's reaction.   
"Had to stay up pretty late to make sure no one was awake. But it was totally worth it."   
"I'll admit it, Connie. That takes some serious balls." Jean stated, running his thumb over the soft fabric.  
"You have my respect." He added, looking back up to Connie. A knock was heard to the door, Jean's instincts kicking in as he quickly rolled the object in his hands as tightly as he could and cupped his fingers to conceal it.   
"Don't worry, it's Reiner. I invited him here because he seems pretty chill and won't tell anyone." Connie explained. Jean unfolded his hands, sighing out of relief.  
"Come on in!" Connie called, reaching under his mattress again to give Reiner a little party favor. But it certainly wasn't Reiner who walked in.  
"Is Jean here? I needed to talk to.. him for.... a..... second." Marcie's sentence slowed the further it got as she spotted the two boys with what she was looking for.   
"Jean, why do you have my panties?" The girl asked, pointing to the silky underwear in her friend's hands. Jean's face flushed over red, his cheeks blazing. A snort was heard from Connie.  
"THESE ARE HERS?" The blond shouted as he threw the undergarments back at Connie, who was now keeled over in laughter. Now that Jean thought about it, it would have been wiser to throw the panties at Marcie, who owned them.   
"Wait, Jean, did you-" Marcie began, her flustered friend quickly turning back to her before she could finish her sentence.   
"No no no no no! I swear it wasn't me! Connie took them!" He explained.   
"Jean, what the hell? Why would you rat me out like that?" Connie shouted, recovering from his laughing fit.   
"Okay, y'know what, I don't care who stole them." Marcie began, walking over to Connie's bedside where she could see a few pairs of underwear sticking out.   
"I'm just here to get them back." The girl stated as she lifted the mattress, propping it on it's thin side so she could retrieve the stolen panties from her cabin.   
"I'll just tell the others that I went snooping around in the boy's barracks and found them under a mattress. I won't say who's." Marcie looked to Connie, her eyes clouded over with irritation.   
"As long as it doesn't happen again." She stated sternly, glaring at Connie a moment more and then walking out of the cabin. 

"Marcie you are an absolute life saver!" Christa chirped as she pulled on her uniform. All of the girl's panties had returned safe and sound, and they were finally able to get dressed. Sasha wasted no time putting her clothes on, the thought of missing breakfast plaguing her mind.   
"Yeah, I thought we were gonna be stuck here until Shardis showed up." Mina added.  
"But are you sure you don't know who took them? I want to beat a little sense into them." Ymir said, cracking her knuckles. Marcie chuckled at how persistent the girl was, this being the third time she had asked.   
"Sorry, Ymir. But I have no idea."


	4. Chapter 4: Tainted Red

"Jean! Calm down!" Marcie begged, her arms hooked under the boy's armpits to restrain him.   
"Say that to my face, coward!" Jean shouted, ignoring his friend's pleas. Across the dining room was Eren Jaeger, a brunette boy with vibrant green eyes, and a dream to join the Survey Corps. He and Jean mixed like water and oil, meaning they didn't mix at all. There would be moments where they weren't fighting, weren't bickering, weren't after each other's throats. But those moments were rare, their highly contradicting personalities and views always causing some sort of spark.   
"I'm the coward? At least I didn't join the military so I could live a cushioned life in the Military Police!" Eren challenged, his only restraint being Armin's hand grasping his arm.   
"That's because I'm not a suicidal bastard, like you!" The blond stated, breaking free from Marcie's arms.   
"At least I have guts!" Eren said, ripping his arm out of Armin's hand. The two boys stood there for a moment, glaring at each other, teeth gritted, fists clenched.   
"This isn't going to end well." Marcie thought to herself, Jean running over to Eren only moments after.   
It wasn't very clear who swung first, but what was clear was that it was one hell of a fight. Jean had remembered the tricks Eren had used from combat training on him a few days ago, and made sure not to leave himself open for a repeat. The blond felt his gut churn as Jaeger landed a solid blow. Jean stumbled back, taking a moment before rushing his opponent and landing a punch right in Eren's jaw. A crowd had gathered around the two by then, egging them on and betting their chores and meals on who they thought would be the victor. Marcie had tried to force her way through so she could break up the fight, but she kept on getting pushed back by oblivious spectators. She listened as the crowd of people "Oo"ed as a punch was thrown. She just hoped that it was an even amount of blows for each boy, and that it wasn't solely Eren landing the punches, or the other way around.   
"Shardis is coming!" A loud warning called, the crowd quickly dispersing back to their seats, leaving Eren and Jean gripping each other's collars and completely visible. They both had notable injuries on their face, cuts and bruises, a small stream of blood trickling from Jean's nose. The door busted open, a tall, menacing figure standing in the threshold.   
"Would anyone care to explain what all that noise was?" The figure in the doorway asking softly, making it's presence even more creepy. No one responded. The quarreling boy's hands hadn't left each other's collars, but their eyes had shifted to the doorway where Shardis stood, their hateful glares now replaced with intimidation and fear.  
"Kirschtein, Jaeger, would you happen to know what was making all that noise?" The Drill Officer questioned, stepping into the mess hall. His face was blank, but his eyes were wide and hostile.   
"E-Eren and Jean tripped, and they both hit a table on the way down, so they were just helping each other up, sir!" Armin piped up, wishing that Mikasa hadn't gone to the bathroom so she could've held back Eren. Shardis's eyes darted over to the small blond, staring him down. Upon hearing Armin's quickly constructed excuse, Eren let go of Jean's collar, Jean doing the same. The amber eyed boy swept off his shirt, irritated that Jaeger had walked away from their fight with minimal injury.   
"Well, if that's the case, then I guess everything is alright here, right boys?" Shardis redirected his eyes back to Eren and Jean, who both quickly nodded.   
"Yes, sir." They both confirmed, trying their best not to break eye contact with the intimidating man. Shardis nodded, turning and walking out of the mess hall, slamming the door behind him. 

"Ow! That hurts!" Jean whined as his friend pressed a wet cloth to a cut on his face. Marcie's face remained blank as she pressed harder.  
"Ow! Marcie, not so hard!" The blond ordered, grabbing the girl's wrist and pulling her hand away from his face. She stared at him for a moment before turning to wring out the cloth.   
"Way to go, Jean." The boy thought to himself.   
"Hey, Marcie, look I... he provoked me, okay?" He sputtered his lame excuse, looking to the girl for a response. Marcie dipped the cloth in a bucket of warm water, turning back to the boy.  
"You called him a suicidal bastard." She said coldly before pressing the cloth to her friend's face. Jean cringed, but his eyes didn't leave her.   
"Well that's because he is." Jean responded simply. Marcie rolled her eyes, pressing the cloth harder to the boy's wound.   
"Aaaah ow okay okay, he isn't a suicidal bastard." The boy admitted, sighing out of relief as he felt the pressure get taken off from his cut. Jean let his eyes gaze over to Marcie once more, noting how irritated the girl looked. He chuckled, drawing the girl's attention.   
"This is just like when we were kids, huh?" He stated, looking to the girl with a half smile. He saw her face soften slightly before she turned to the bucket to wring out the towel.   
"You would always pull me out of those stupid fights when we were little, and you'd always clean me up by the river like you are now."   
Marcie glanced over at Jean for a moment. She remembered those days, the good old days. The days where she and Jean would wander around the district together, getting into all sorts of mischief. Usually, it was Jean getting into the mischief, and Marcie who had to drag him out.   
"And you'd always have the same look on your face when you were cleaning me up." Jean continued, not taking his eyes off of the girl as she turned back to him, rubbing the cloth more gently against one of his cuts.   
"You'd always look like you were mad at me, which is obvious why." Jean shrugged.  
"But then, you'd look like you were about to cry. I figured you didn't like seeing me hurt, but now.." Jean sighed, rubbing the nape of his neck.   
"Now you just look plain mad. Which is helping me realize now that you've changed so much from when we were little kids."   
"You haven't." Marcie responded, a smile playing at her lips. The blond picked up on the girl's playful tone and shoved her lightly, chuckling a little at her remark.   
"Shut up." He said with a smile.   
Marcie giggled, a warm smile spread across her freckled cheeks. Jean felt his stomach drop. He didn't know what it was, but he just suddenly felt different. He swallowed, but swallowed nothing, for his mouth had become dry. He was shaking, too. Not "shivers-down-your-spine" shaking, but his fingers started twitching a little more than they used to. His stomach, that had seemed to have dropped into a dark abyss, never to return, fluttered back up. Almost as if it was being carried by butterflies. What the hell was all of this? Why did it happen all of a sudden? Was it because of Marcie? No, it couldn't be! Jean's thoughts were all over the place, his focus wavering as he tried to figure out what was going on.   
"Jean? Are you alright?" Marcie asked, waving her hand in front of the boy's eyes. Jean snapped back into reality, the weird feeling only growing stronger when he made eye contact with the girl.   
"Y-Yeah, just a little light headed, that's all." He tripped over his words, glancing down at the floor, then back to his companion.   
"Hey, Marcie?" Jean began, sitting up to look the girl more directly in the eye.  
"Thanks, for all the times you cleaned me up after a fight. I really appreciate it."   
The girl smiled sympathetically to her bruised and battered friend.   
"I just wish you'd start thinking before throwing a punch." Marcie admitted. She turned back to the bucket of water once more, the tip of the white towel now tainted red. She dipped the fabric in the warm water, bringing it back out a moment later to free from it any excess water.   
"But you were never really one to think."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops sorry for not updating in a millennium guys


	5. Dreaming of Damage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god i haven't touched this thing since like winter im sorry about that guys. enjoy this short chapter while i start to work on this again.

Chapter 5: Dreaming of Damage  
The scene kept playing through Jean’s head, the sound of crunching bones and helpless shrieking echoing on and on as if it would never stop. He wasn’t quick enough. If he had sprung into action a second sooner instead of standing there like an idiot, this wouldn’t have happened. She would’ve been fine. The image of her doe brown eyes wide and teary, filled with pain. The blood, what Jean wouldn’t give to forget all the red stains on her uniform. Her hand, reaching out to him in hopes that he would be able to save her. The scene kept on playing over and over, unable to stop no matter how hard Jean tried. It was burned in the back of his eyes, which had been fighting back tears for the past three hours after the episode.   
The door opened, a man walking out and stopping when he noticed Jean, who had been sitting next to the threshold of the room. Jean quickly stood, saluting the man.  
“How is she?” He managed, his voice shaky.   
The man sighed.  
“No.” Jean thought to himself before pushing past the male, into the room. He didn’t take two steps into the room before stopping completely, those tears he had been fighting back finally winning the war and rolling down his cheeks. He hesitated before slowly beginning to walk towards the bed where she lay, the uneven wooden floorboards creaking beneath his feet.   
“Hey.” A soft voice greeted him, and with that soft tone was an even softer smile. Jean quickly wiped away his tears, snuffling as he made eye contact with the only eye visible, the other covered by a bandage. He pulled over a chair, sitting down next to the girl’s bed.  
“Hey.” He responded, the back of his throat sore as he held back more tears.   
“I had a little accident.” The girl said with a breathy chuckle, looking down at the bandaged nub that used to connect to her right arm. Jean reached out to take the girl’s left hand in his own, rubbing the top side with his thumb. He looked back up at the girl, but couldn’t focus on her face. It just…. Wasn’t there. No matter how hard he squinted, it was just blank. It was odd, for only a moment ago he remembered staring into her one chocolate brown eye that was left untouched, but now it was gone. Yet she continued to talk.  
“The doctor say’s I’ll be okay, so don’t worry, alright?” Jean nodded at the request the girl had made. The girl nodded in return, the rest of her nub of an arm suddenly disappearing, the bandages around it falling to the bed.  
“H-Hey, what’s going on?” Jean questioned hastily, the girl’s shoulder and lower abdomen beginning to fade out.   
“Don’t worry, Jean.” The same voiced reiterated, the bandages on one half of her blank face now falling as well. Jean stood, backing away.  
“What the hell is going on?!” He demanded.   
“Don’t worry, Jean.” The same voice called, echoing around him. Jean tried to move, to run out of the room, but his feet wouldn’t cooperate. He looked down, the floor suddenly gone and all that stood beneath him was a dark and endless void.   
“Don’t. Worry. Jean.” The voice said again, it’s soft tone gone and replaced with one much more blood churning than the last. Jean felt his feet sink before he fell.  
Thud!  
Jean groaned, hearing a few others stir. His body ached, something cool pressed against his skin.   
“Kirschtein, you okay?” A groggy voice asked.   
Oh. That’s what was happening. Jean sat up straight, yawning.   
“Just a bad dream’s all.” The blonde responded, standing and stretching. He climbed back into his bunk, fixing the blanket he had tossed to the side during his nightmare. Laying down on the pillow beneath him, Jean closed his eyes and tried to gain a few more hours of rest before he and the other troops rose with the sun. But, just as it had happened in his dream, the scene kept playing through Jean’s head.


End file.
